


Nowhere

by ti_ana



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 05:11:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/683179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ti_ana/pseuds/ti_ana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the defeat of Cell, and being brought back to life, Trunks heads back to Capsule Corporation to spend his final day in the "past." He has a heart to heart talk with his young mother, which causes Bulma to reflect on her own relationship with Vegeta. Will Vegeta return? What's next for the proud Saiyan Prince? Two parter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Family dynamics

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this about 6 years ago and just recently rediscovered it among my files. It didn't make me cringe, so I decided to share. Although it is also post Cell, it is mostly unrelated to my other post-Cell fic, "Loose Ends," which centers more about the Trunks/Vegeta dynamic than Bulma/Vegeta. You'll find the themes are mostly similar, however. My post-Cell vision of what the B/V relationship may have been like has shifted since I wrote this and I may eventually write another, different piece that's been floating around my head for a while. But, I can't resist spreading a bit of in-character fluff around first. Enjoy!

“Trunks!! Oh, Trunks!”

The words ripped out of her mouth before Bulma could stop them as she ran to envelope her son in a warm hug. Trunks looked at her like a deer caught in the headlights, and actually took a step back in surprise as his young mother threw herself into his arms. They were standing by the front entrance of Capsule Corporation; Bulma had seen her son approaching the house from the distance and had run out to meet him before he had even set foot on the ground.

“I’m so glad you’re alive!” she gushed, her voice muffled because her face was buried in his chest.

Trunks held out both his hands on either side of his mother uncertainly, before finally returning his mother’s tight embrace awkwardly. “I’m fine, Mom.”

Bulma pulled her head back to examine the hole in his armor. She turned her head up to look at him suspiciously. “And how did _this_ get here?” she said, pointing her index finger at the hole.

“Okay, I was dead for a little bit, but I was wished back and I’m okay.”

Bulma’s eyes went wide and her hand went up to her mouth. “Dead?”

Trunks nodded. “Please, don’t worry about it.” He sighed. “It’s finally over.”

Her face softening, Bulma looped her arm around her son’s and started pulling him into the house. “Are you hungry? There are plenty of leftovers in the fridge, I can have something defrosted for you in no time.”

He hadn’t given much thought to food before, but now that she mentioned it, he suddenly felt the rumbling in his stomach that indicated it had been a while since his last meal. “Yeah,” Trunks admitted, not meeting his mother’s eyes. “I am a bit hungry.”

Bulma beamed and continued to walk with him toward the kitchen. She signaled for him to sit down as she went to the freezer and started pulling out food to defrost. “I was watching the whole thing on television, until it suddenly went off the air,” she was saying as she loaded food into an industrial size microwave. “I couldn’t take not knowing what was going on.”

“It was a heated fight,” Trunks replied, thinking of the moment when Gohan had finally managed to best Cell’s power. He looked down at his hands on the table, wondering how he was going to tell his mother what had happened to her lifelong friend, Goku. “Mom...”

Something about the tone in his voice made her look up from her task.

“I don’t even know how to say this...” His face was a mask of frustration as he remembered how Goku had informed them of his decision not to return to Earth.

Bulma was suddenly sitting next to him. “What is it?”

“There was someone who didn’t make it...” he said, not meeting her eyes.

“Trunks, did something happen to your father?”

Trunks quickly shook his head and looked up at her. “No, Father’s fine.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a softer version of his father’s smirk. It always amazed Bulma to think of how much the two looked alike. “His pride might be a little damaged, but I think he’ll get over it.”

“Then who?”

Trunks exhaled and looked down to where her hands were covering his own. “It was Goku.”

There was a sharp intake of breath as Bulma soaked in the information. “How can that be?”

Trunks gave her a brief overview of the battle and explained how Goku had sacrificed himself in an attempt to stop Cell from blowing up the entire planet. He went on to describe how Gohan had been the one to defeat Cell, though he hadn’t personally been able to see it.

“But... what about the dragonballs?” Bulma queried. “They brought you back, why didn’t they use them to bring Goku back?”

Trunks shook his head. “He didn’t want to come back. He decided to stay in the afterlife to train.”

Bulma’s eyebrows immediately formed a frown and she pursed her lips. “Hmmph!” She crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s just like Goku!” Her expression relaxed with a single sigh as the microwave suddenly beeped and she stood up to get Trunks his food.

“I can’t say I really understand it, but if it makes him happy...” Trunks trailed off thoughtfully.

Bulma set a plate of food in front of him and sat down next to him again. Trunks began to dig in, his Saiyan appetite taking over and Bulma had to smile as she watched him. Once again, she took the opportunity to study his features. He was a very handsome young man, with his father’s angled eyes and sharp nose, and even his broad forehead, although he hadn’t inherited the pronounced widow’s peak that Vegeta had. Even his expressions were almost carbon copies of his father’s, but without the same malice that usually went along with Vegeta’s. But his coloring had definitely come from her side of the family, and though she hadn’t personally witnessed much of it, she suspected he also had inherited her genius. He was the best qualities of both her and Vegeta rolled into one single individual; she couldn’t have asked for a more perfect combination. Who would’ve thought that two people like she and Vegeta could’ve created something so... incredible?

“Mom, you’re staring,” Trunks said, embarrassment coating his voice.

Bulma didn’t look away, instead raised a hand to brush away some of his hair from his eyes. “I’m sorry, Trunks, I just...” Now she did glance away, turning her gaze to her hands. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks,” he replied softly.

Already dreading the answer to her next question, she steeled herself and asked it anyway. “When were you planning on going back to your own timeline?”

Trunks pursed his lips. “I was thinking of resting tonight and heading back first thing tomorrow morning.”

“So soon?” Bulma asked with disappointment.

Trunks nodded. “I’m sorry, but I’ve been away long enough as it is. My mother... err... you in the future...” he stumbled on his words, not really sure what to call someone else who was technically the same person as the one he was speaking to. “Well, she’ll be worried.”

Bulma smiled with understanding. Yes, she knew herself very well and she knew she’d be worried sick over her only son. “Yeah, I imagine I would be.”

“Mom...” Trunks spoke hesitantly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Trunks, you know you can ask me anything,” Bulma said immediately.

“You and Father...” He trailed off. How would he phrase the question that had been plaguing his mind for so long? “What’s going to happen now?”

Bulma had imagined he would be wondering, but she hadn’t been sure if he’d work up the courage to ask her. If truth be told, she had no idea what was going to happen. She wasn’t even sure she understood what _had_ happened already. She and Vegeta had had a very tumultuous relationship since the day he had moved into her home, a relationship that had developed into something else as time had progressed. At the moment, she wasn’t sure that they were together anymore, and Vegeta had made it clear on more than one occasion that he wasn’t interested in anything permanent with her. She hadn’t been interested in anything permanent at the beginning either, but the circumstances had changed and now she was surprised to find herself longing for him to stay.

“Trunks,” she began carefully. “Your dad and I have a very complicated relationship. It was complicated way before you even came into the picture.”

Trunks pushed his empty plate aside, not meeting her eyes. “I know.”

“He’s always been a loner,” Bulma continued. “I’m not sure that you being born really changed that fact too much. He acknowledged you as his son, and I give him credit for that, but from there to actually sticking around... I honestly have no idea.”

Trunks willed himself to meet his mother’s eyes for his next question. “Do you care for him?”

“Yes,” Bulma replied without hesitation.

“Does he care for you?”

That question wasn’t as easy to answer. “I...” She swallowed hard. “He’s never said it. I used to think he might, but lately I’m not too sure anymore.”

Trunks frowned thoughtfully, as if debating with himself about what to say next. Finally, he spoke quietly. “After I was brought back to life, Yamcha told me that when Cell killed me, Father went crazy with rage and started attacking Cell like no tomorrow.”

Trunks’ words made Bulma blink in surprise. She wasn’t sure what surprised her more: that Vegeta had had a public display of an emotion other than hate, or the fact that it was Yamcha who had told her son about it.

“ _Yamcha_ told you that?” She decided to vocalize the latter thought.

“Yeah.” Trunks nodded, not quite catching on to her particular source of disbelief. “I couldn’t believe Father would do that either.”

Yamcha had always hated Vegeta; not that Bulma could really blame him. The revelation that she had been having the Saiyan Prince’s baby had hit a particularly sore spot with Yamcha. She could still remember the bitterness with which he had informed the others to “wait until she tells you who the father _really_ is.” He still held a grudge with Vegeta for killing him when he had first arrived on Earth years before and Vegeta hadn’t exactly done much in an attempt to fix that. If anything, all he did was fuel the human man’s dislike and, Bulma suspected, on purpose. The fact that it had been Yamcha who had painted Vegeta in a positive light impressed her. She decided to keep her thoughts to herself.

“Well,” Bulma said with a weak smile. “Many words describe Vegeta, but _predictable_ certainly has never been one of them!”

Trunks allowed himself a brief chuckle and nodded in agreement. “He doesn’t like to show it, but I believe that underneath all that pride and anger, he feels something for us.”

The insight made Bulma stop to mull over her next words. She had been putting up with Vegeta for several years now and she had allowed herself to think the same thing several times over the time she’d known him, but she had always dismissed the idea later on, as if it had been simply a figment of her imagination. The fact that somebody else was arriving to a similar conclusion separately was enough to make her think it over again. Swallowing hard, she spoke. “Maybe he’s developed an attachment for you after getting to know you and seeing how strong and smart you grow up to be. But... I’m not sure it extends to me.”

Trunks shook his head. “I think it does.”

The simple words, so full of assuredness, took her aback. “Why do you say that?”

The question seemed to make Trunks uncomfortable. He pursed his lips, not saying anything for a few moments. “I didn’t think so when I first got here and saw the way you two behaved with each other. For a while, I was wondering how in the world you two stopped fighting long enough to... well, to conceive me.” He blushed a little, but kept talking. “I have to say that although my main reason to come here was to warn you about the androids and help out, I had another, more selfish reason. I wanted to meet my father, who had died when I was a baby. Mom told me not to expect too much from him, but...”

“But you couldn’t help it,” Bulma said with a smile.

“I had prepared myself for how he was going to be; it’s just different seeing it in person,” Trunks finished. “And yes, I was disappointed at first.”

“And now?”

“Now I accept him as he is,” Trunks replied. “He’s not perfect, but then again, neither is Goku and he’s still a good father. Vegeta has it in him to be a good father; I know he could do it if he were given a chance to.”

Bulma was already shaking her head. “I’m not going to stop him from participating in your life, Trunks. I want him to stick around and help raise you. But it’s all up to him now.”

“I know. And I wouldn’t have thought it was possible before, but now I think he would. Mom...” Bulma met her son’s eyes, seeing in them a man who should’ve been much older than his 18 years. “I’ve seen him around you and despite the way he seems to treat you, I can tell he has a lot of respect for you. He does care about you, he just hides it because he thinks it makes him weak. Please don’t give up on him. I’ve had to grow up without my father because he’s not even alive. But the me that lives in this reality doesn’t have to go through that.”

Bulma smiled. “I don’t want you to go through that either,” she assured him. “I promise you that if he comes back and says he wants to stay, I’ll give him the chance.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m glad you care so much about your father, Trunks,” Bulma added. “He’s had a very rough life. I can’t even begin to imagine what he must have gone through to be the way he is. You’ve allowed him to feel pride for someone other than himself for once.”

Trunks’ eyes wandered from his mother’s face thoughtfully. “We’re all he’s got.”

It couldn’t be truer, Bulma reflected. She wondered where he was right now, if he was injured, and if he’d even return to Capsule Corporation. For all she knew, he could be getting ready to leave the planet at this very moment. Bulma forced herself to push the thought from her mind and looked at Trunks again.

“By the way,” she said with a quick wink. “Your father and I did stop arguing in favor of doing other things every once in a while...”

Trunks blushed deeply and turned his head away in embarrassment, causing Bulma to laugh out loud.

“I will tell you one thing, though,” Bulma continued thoughtfully. “Vegeta’s very different when we’re in private... and I’m not just talking about when we’re intimate, before you get any traumatizing mental images!”

“Too late,” Trunks muttered, though Bulma heard him. She ignored him and continued.

“I mean when we’re just in the same room and there’s nobody else around. Oh, he’s not sweet or considerate or anything like that. I don’t think Vegeta could ever be any of those things, and frankly, I wouldn’t want him to be, because that’s just not who he is. But his attitude relaxes a little bit. I can’t put my finger on what it is, he’s just... different. And he’d probably kill me if he knew I was telling anyone this.” She chuckled. “It took a long time for him to be remotely near comfortable around me.”

Trunks nodded. “I believe you.”

Bulma raised a hand to his cheek and beamed at him. “Thank you for coming here, Trunks. For all the help you provided and for giving us a better future. We’ll be forever indebted to you.”

Trunks took his mother’s hand in his own and set it on the table, then covered it with his other hand. “I’m just glad I could make a difference.”

“You did.” Bulma patted his hand with her free hand. “You’re probably exhausted after the long day.”

“Just a little,” Trunks replied. “Coming back from the dead was a strange experience.”

“No stranger than traveling back 20 years in time and meeting your parents two years before you were even born!”

Trunks laughed. “Yeah, you have a point.”

“Alright,” Bulma said. “ _I’m_ exhausted from all the worrying! I’m going to go grab a shower and be off to bed.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll do the same,” Trunks answered, though his mother was already walking out of the room. He was trying to forget the unfortunate and unbidden mental image that came to his mind when his mother had mentioned the shower. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to get it out of his mind.

It had been right before the Cell games had officially started. He had gone back to Capsule Corporation with his mother, while his father had disappeared somewhere to train by himself. That’s what he’d thought, anyway. He’d been on his way to his own room when he’d felt a sudden ki flickering in the bathroom. Alarmed, Trunks had headed to the door and was about to knock, when he’d heard whimpering coming from inside.

“ _Mom_? _” he called._

_He pressed his ear against the door when there was no answer. The shower was running loudly, probably preventing her from hearing him in the first place. He considered simply opening the door, but didn’t want to walk in on his mother taking a shower. There had been something strange about the ki he’d felt earlier, however. It was too strong to be his mother’s ki, but it had come and faded so quickly, that he couldn’t be very certain about it._

_“Mom, are you alright?”_

_Suddenly he heard another sound, though this time it was a different voice. It was a manly grunt that sounded familiar to him. The same ki flickered again and this time, he had a strong suspicion that he knew who it belonged to._ Could it be...? _Trunks thought._

_He held his breath and heard a female whimper again, this time followed by a name coming out in a long moan._

_“Vegeta...”_

_Trunks gasped and stumbled back as he realized what it was. There was no mistaking it, the ki had belonged to his father and the voices he heard were his parents’. They were in the shower together? Why?_

_He blushed as he heard another loud moan coming from his mother and hurried away from the bathroom door and into his room, trying to rid himself of the mental images that had invaded his mind._

Well, he could imagine why they were in there, but why would they be together like that, if it had only been a few hours that they had been yelling at each other? Was it possible that there was something more to the relationshipbetween his parents than he had originally thought? Was it purely physical?

He hadn’t been able to answer his questions and he wouldn’t have dared ask his parents a few hours later when he saw them in the kitchen. He hadn’t been able to meet either of their eyes, and although his mother had wondered if he was okay, his father hadn’t even bothered. Once he had gotten over his embarrassment, that had been the moment when he had first observed the way his father treated his mother more carefully and had started thinking about the things he had just told his mother. Trunks still couldn’t bring himself to ask either of his parents about what he had heard in the bathroom that day, and he doubted he ever would.

But now he had hope that things might turn out well after all.

Trunks wandered out into the living room where he found his younger version sitting on the rug, banging his toys against the ground. His grandmother was sitting on the couch watching the little boy with her usual cheeriness and greeted the adult Trunks as he walked into the room. Trunks smiled and turned to look at the little boy.

_Yeah_ , he thought. _I think things will be just fine._


	2. Whatever may the future hold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta finally makes his appearance. What's next for our favorite couple?

The scent of fresh soap filled the air as the bathroom door opened and Bulma walked out. She pulled her bathrobe tightly around her midriff and closed the sash in front of it, walking toward the vanity to begin her nightly ritual. She sat on the stool in front of her mirror, intent on beginning to apply one of her facial creams; her hand hovered over various creams, but her mind kept drifting to the conversation she had just had with her son. Everything was different now that Goku was gone permanently and they were at peace again. Trunks would be going back to his own time the next morning, and Vegeta.... God only knew where Vegeta had gone to. Three of the most important men in her life probably wouldn’t be there anymore and she wasn’t sure how she would handle that yet.

She sighed, an image of Goku’s smiling face popping into her brain. “Goku, you idiot,” she muttered, even as she felt her eyes watering with unshed tears.

“I certainly won’t disagree with you there.”

Bulma started at the familiar voice that had materialized out of nowhere behind her. Her eyes went up sharply to look at the reflection in the mirror in front of her. She could now make out a new shadow against the wall, near the door to the sliding door that led out into the balcony. She willed her heart to stop beating so wildly as she looked at the familiar shape reflected through her mirror.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she snapped. “Haven’t you ever heard of using a door? Or knocking?”

The shadow didn’t budge an inch, but she heard a light chuckle behind her. “It’s more fun this way.”

Bulma frowned and turned around in her stool to face the intruder. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “You could at least stop skulking in the shadows and come face me like a man.”

There was a rustle of fabric and she watched as he pushed off against the wall and took a step forward. The wild, flame-shaped mane of black hair came out of the shadow first, followed by a muscled torso and gold-tipped boots. “I do not skulk,” was the answer.

Bulma rolled her eyes in exasperation and crossed her arms. “What are you doing here, Vegeta?”

A flicker of uncertainty flashed in his eyes momentarily, gone as quickly as it had appeared. Any other person might have missed it, but Bulma knew this man well enough to read his expressions by now. He had been expecting a different sort of greeting, she knew.

“Not that you’re not welcome here,” she added, remembering what she had promised Trunks earlier that evening. “I just wasn’t expecting you to be _here_.” She gestured at her bedroom.

A more familiar expression took over Vegeta’s face at her comment. His forehead deepened into a scowl and he crossed his arms in front of him. “The battle is over,” he said simply.

Bulma lifted an expectant eyebrow. “I know; I talked to Trunks.”

Once again, there was another flash of doubt in his eyes. She could tell that he was trying to control his emotions, but was failing, as he sometimes did when he was alone with her. “Trunks is here?” he asked.

“He got back a few hours ago,” Bulma told him, her tone of voice becoming gentler. “He wants to leave tomorrow morning.”

Vegeta turned his head sideways, giving Bulma a clear view of his profile. He seemed to be thinking of something, but nothing about his demeanor would give away what it was.

“Are you going to see him off?” she asked quietly.

For a few seconds, he didn’t answer. Finally, with his head still turned sideways, he nodded imperceptibly. “I will be here.”

Bulma shivered at the tone his voice had suddenly taken. It was soft, unlike anything she’d heard from him before, even when they were alone. His posture hadn’t changed; he still stood rigidly, close to the wall, his arms crossed, and his muscles tense, as if ready for battle. But she knew it wasn’t a physical battle he was ready for. It was his own internal battle that he didn’t know how to handle. She decided to give him a little nudge to get a feel of what he was thinking of.

“How about after that?” she whispered.

Vegeta’s head whipped back toward her, his onyx eyes meeting her azure ones. The uncertainty was there again, but he wasn’t trying to hide it this time.

She pressed on, knowing it was now or never. “That Trunks will be leaving, but we still have another Trunks here. He’s small, and can’t quite do what the older Trunks can yet, but he’ll need the proper training to get there. You know he has the potential now.”

“I have never doubted his potential,” Vegeta said crisply. “He is my son, a Saiyan, and a member of the royal line of Planet Vegeta, even if he is tainted with your human blood.”

Bulma let the slight on her species slide, taking her momentum for his obvious pride in his son. “Then he’ll need his father, the Prince of the Saiyans to guide him and show him his heritage. Or would you rather Gohan do it instead?” 

The uncertainty that had been flashing in his face previously was gone now, replaced with the familiar expression of scorn. “Kakarott’s spawn has no idea what it is to be a Saiyan.”

“Then you know what you have to do,” Bulma insisted.

“There is nothing for me here,” Vegeta growled. “My sole purpose for living in this mudball of a planet is no more. Kakarott is dead and with him my chance to prove myself worthy of my title. I wasn’t even able to defeat Cell; Kakarott’s half breed boy succeeded where I failed.”

Bulma could see the effect this was having on his pride. She knew him well enough to know what turmoil of emotions he was probably facing and why he had been letting his guard down tonight. She knew it was going to be difficult to convince him to stay, but she was way above begging. If he wouldn’t accept her offer, then she decided she was not going to push it anymore.

“And what are you going to do?” she countered. “Go off into space and wander aimlessly? Go kill some more innocents, the way you used to do before? Abandon your son as if he never existed? Just give up everything you’ve already built here on Earth in favor of returning to your old lifestyle? You won’t gain anything from that. I have the tools you need in order to train and become stronger right here.” She stood up and walked over to stand in front of him. “Don’t you dare say there is nothing here for you. You have a son now, you could at least stay for his sake. You can have your old room back, and full use of the gravity room, just at least act like a father to your son?”

Vegeta examined her face closely. Something flashed in his eyes again, but it wasn’t uncertainty this time. She couldn’t quite place the emotion. “You would have me stay here?”

“Look, I’m not stupid. I don’t pretend that what we have is a real relationship... I don’t even know if we have anything.” Bulma blinked a few times and looked away from Vegeta. “We had both agreed from the beginning that this wasn’t going to be permanent. Having Trunks turned everything upside down, but there’s nothing I can do about that. I don’t regret it.”

She wasn’t looking at him, but she could almost feel his eyes roaming her face. “Things aren’t the way they were when we first started sleeping together,” she continued, finally forcing her eyes to meet his again. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t be civil to one another, for Trunks’ sake. You don’t have anywhere else to go, I have a lot of space here... you might as well just stay.”

Vegeta’s gaze was unwavering as he looked directly at her. “You feel something for me.”

It wasn’t a question.

“What?”

“I can sense your pulse. Your heart is beating faster than normal when you’re near me. You wish for there to be more than just civility between us.”

Bulma’s mouth was hanging open. That was the most straightforward thing Vegeta had _ever_ said to her. “How... what...”

“Don’t try to tell me it’s physical attraction, I can tell the difference.”

Vegeta’s statements kept getting weirder and weirder. Bulma blinked a few times in surprise. “Fine,” she snapped. “I admit it, I do care about you. What’s it to you?”

His face didn’t shift expressions, but she could see the emotions in his eyes. “Why?” he demanded, the word ripping roughly from his mouth. His hands were suddenly holding each of her arms, holding her tightly against him. “Why would you care for me, knowing who I am and what I’ve done? After how I’ve treated you?”

“I—I don’t know,” Bulma murmured. “It’s not logical, I just do!”

“I came to this planet to destroy it and everything in it, including you,” Vegeta ground out through clenched teeth. He shook her once, as if accentuating his words. “I would’ve killed you without a second thought, had Kakarott not defeated me. Why did you invite me into your home, into your bed? Why would you want me to have anything to do with your son?”

“He’s your son too!” Bulma cried. “I know how you were when you first came to Earth, Vegeta. I was terrified of you!” Her eyes met his defiantly. “But can’t you see you’ve changed? You don’t scare me anymore and you haven’t for years. You have never physical hurt me... _ever_!”

“But I could,” he countered. “I could snap you in half right now, without even thinking about it. Nobody would be able to stop me.”

“But you haven’t,” she said softly. “You wouldn’t.” She glanced down at where his hands were holding her against him. Vegeta relaxed his fingers visibly, not quite letting go of her, but allowing her enough room to move her arms out of his grasp. He didn’t move as she slid her arms around his neck and threaded her fingers through the back of his hair, instead choosing to watch her face warily. “And you won’t.”

A few seconds went by as they simply stood looking at each other without moving. Suddenly, without warning, Vegeta’s lips were on Bulma’s, devouring her mouth hungrily, exploring every crevice with his demanding tongue. She didn’t complain, allowing herself to be maneuvered around with her back to the wall and let out a low moan from the back of her throat when his hard body pressed firmly against hers.

Bulma felt Vegeta’s hands roaming her torso insistently and pushed against him in encouragement. His mouth suddenly pulled away from hers and she cried out in protest, trying to bring him back against her. The corner of his lips lifted in amusement, even as he resisted her pull.

“I won’t be needing that other room,” he informed her conversationally as he tugged at the strings of her robe to reveal her body to him.

She let go of his head and dropped her arms to allow the robe to fall to the floor. “So where are you planning on going?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Nowhere,” he murmured. Swiftly, he ducked his head towards her, capturing her lips with his again.

Bulma smiled against his lips and let her head fall against the wall as he worked his magic on her body. She already knew he wouldn’t be going anywhere.


End file.
